Fade
by petals-to-fish
Summary: Imagine if Voldemort had picked the Longbottom family instead of the Potter family. Hold onto hope if you've got it, because survival is harder than you'd imagine (Jily if they lived AU)
1. Lily

**Summary:** Imagine if Voldemort had picked the Longbottom family instead of the Potter's. Hold onto hope if you've got it, because survival is harder than you'd imagine. (Jily if they lived AU)

* * *

November 1st was quiet and still.

Lily Potter could hear the curtains blowing against the walls thanks to a wintry breeze flowing from the cracked windows. She could feel her husband's hands on her lower back as he snuggled in closer to her warmth under their patchwork quilt. When she licked her lips, she could still taste the consequences of her husband's nightlong thorough and persistent affection. A soft "good morning" echoed about the small bedroom as James kissed her bare shoulder devotedly.

Lily waited for it, the inevitable cry of her son Harry, who just over a year and growing with each passing day. James and Lily had been up late and Lily hoped that Harry would sleep just a little bit longer so she could remain wrapped in James' firm embrace. Light filtered through the blue drapes on the window and turned strands of Lily's hair gold against the peach colored pillowcase. One of James' hands found its way to become wrapped in several of the strands, admiring them.

"How long before Harry wakes?" he thought quietly.

Lily stretched her toes like a cat before purring, "Hopefully not until after I'm done reminiscing about last night."

James chuckled favorably, his spare hand tracing her hip just as it had been doing that night, "What do you want to do today?"

"Perhaps visit Bathilda?" Lily mentioned their elderly neighbor, turning her body to face James.

James' hazel eyes were squinting at her because without his glasses he was basically blind. His lips were downturned but only because he was trying to get a good look at her expression. Lily made sure to keep her face as straight as possible.

"You're serious aren't you?" His feet tangled with hers, "Lily, please, can't we go to the park?"

"Dumbledore said—"

"Dumbledore says a lot of things Lily," James bemoaned, "Let's get out of town for the day?"

"James." Her tone was one of warning before she pecked him lightly on the nose, "Until we get your invisibility cloak back, we shouldn't go anywhere. Dumbledore said we're being watched by You-Know-Who and his followers."

James groaned but complied and didn't argue further. Lily ran her own fingers through the black hair atop James' head, feeling sorry that she had to play bad guy. Lily had to admit; she was starting to feel confined in the cottage after months of hiding out from the dark wizards they so despised.

She found it soothing, knowing that they had wonderful friends who were warning them of the danger lurking outside their homely cottage but Lily couldn't help fearing that one day she'd lose her mind. How much longer could they stay locked up in their cottage for fear of death lurking outside of their windows? The Potter's were a wanted family, mainly for their blatant refusal to join the dark wizards rallying for world domination over muggles. Lily herself was wanted because some wizards believed her marriage with James was revolting and unnatural all because she was born to a couple of muggles (non-wizards).

Lily had lost her parents to sickness. She'd lost her sister for keeping her magic. She couldn't bare the thought of losing anything else thanks to the war. She loved James and Harry more than anything and couldn't imagine a world without them. That's the only reason why she played bad guy when James wanted to take a family outing.

The feeling of their confinement only increased when, suddenly, the handsome cry of an infant startled both Lily and James apart from each other. Next door, their small son could be heard crying out for his father. A smile spread across Lily's face as James groaned and threw the pillow over her head.

"Daddaaaaaaaa."

Lily giggled as her husband only complained, "Coming Harry!"

That only made the 15-month-old baby cry out more. Lily wrinkled her nose at her husband and kicked his ankles playfully under the covers. James kissed her cheek before stretching his arms to the headboard.

"Why does Harry insist on _me_ being the one to get him up?" James complained.

"Go get him," Lily ordered James, "I'll meet you both downstairs for pancakes."

James rolled out from under the covers, goose-bumps immediately rising on his back and arms as he pulled on flannel pajama bottoms that had been on the floor from the night before. James' feet dragged the sleepy father to the hallway and into the bedroom next door where Lily heard James say hello to their son and Harry's giggle of a reply.

"How's my favorite son doing this morning?!" James shouted loudly.

"He's your only son!" she called loudly and lightheartedly into the other room.

Lily could almost see the scene next-door happening as she rolled out from under the warm covers to retrieve her dressing gown. Lily let the warm fabric fall over her shoulders as she imagined James flinging their son around the nursery cheerfully, always eager to please. Lily's bare feet were chilled against the cold wooden slots of the floor and she searched for her slippers before starting the trek to the kitchen.

Random toys littered the stairs where Harry had left them. He was starting to climb easily now and half of Lily's day was spent trying to corral him and the family cat into one room. A few picture frames littered the walls of James and his mates or of James and Lily. One of Lily's favorite photos of Hogwarts (the wizarding school where she and James met) was sitting on the mantel in the hallway downstairs that led to the kitchen.

Lily stood in silence, letting the pictures bring her back to happier days.

Lily missed Hogwarts and the freedom she and James had grown accustomed to there. Back then, Lily and James had taken long walks on the lakeshores. They'd played quidditch; laughing with their best friends every night. Instead of drinking away their boredom like the Potter's often did now, Lily had shots of firewhisky on a dare before snogging her boyfriend (now husband) in secluded towers.

Lily lifted her eyes away from the photo of Hogwarts and onto a pointed mirror that had been on the wall ever since James was a child growing up in the Potter cottage. Lily's green eyes pierced back at herself through the old mirror and Lily frowned when she saw that her forehead was ceased with worry.

"Owl post is here, dear." The mirror said softly, startling Lily.

Lily nodded shortly, never fully comfortable that their mirror had a mind of it's own. James had said it was his mother's favorite gift and that's why it was permanently glued to the wall but Lily had a sneaking suspicion it was glued to the wall because the mirror had a habit of complimenting James whenever he walked past it. However ego fluffing the magical mirror was, it was never wrong and Lily entered the kitchen to find their own waiting on the counter with the daily newspaper and a few letters from friends.

Lily tossed the owl a bit of leftover bread before taking the letters and ripping them open. The first was from Harry's Godfather, writing to see if the Potter's had heard from Peter Pettigrew. Lily set Sirius' letter aside, intending to write to him after breakfast was finished. The second letter was from Lily's old Headmaster Dumbledore who requested that James and Lily meet with him as soon as possible to discuss possible measures of safety. Lily placed his letter down and turned to the newspaper just as James entered the kitchen with a baby on his hip.

Harry squealed the moment he saw his mother leaning over the table, "mama!"

James took the opportunity to pass Harry off to Lily, "He wants you."

Lily took Harry in her arms and kissed his pudgy baby cheek carefully before turning back to the newspaper. Lily almost dropped Harry in surprise at the large words printed in black bold ink: _You-Know-Who Has Fallen! Wizarding World In Shock!_

James, who had promptly gone to the fridge for some orange juice asked into the cooling box, "want me to start on some bacon?"

"James."

Her tone was one of upmost shock. Even Harry had stopped pulling on his mother's hair. Lily turned her face so she could show James the tears already leaking down her face. James dropped the orange juice on the floor and rushed to her side, pulling her hair back so he could search her face for answers. Getting none, he turned his attention to the newspaper clutched in her free hand. His dark face turned pallid.

"Gone." He croaked, "How's that possible—"

But before Lily could register that the paper was telling the Potter's they were free, a sound startled them both from the front entryway. The door was thrown open wildly; Lily heard it crash against the pram in the hallway. The Potter's eyes met instantly and James looked around wildly for his wand—which was still upstairs where he'd left it after preforming the contraceptive charm the night before. Lily's wand was likely where she'd left it when James had started his advancements in the bathroom. Lily's breath caught in her throat as she realized they were stupidly defenseless and Harry began crying as bolts of light started blasting through the Potter's cottage.

"Lily, take Harry and go!" James pushed Lily behind him, "Go! I'll hold them off!"

Lily took one look at her husband before scrambling away, "I love you."

It took every ounce of her being to run away from her husband as he threw his arms out to block her and Harry from the oncoming spells and cloaked figures entering their tiny kitchen. Lily raced to the back of the kitchen where a window was positioned behind a breakfast table. Lily placed Harry on one of the chairs as she frantically tried to pull the window open.

She heard James call out and she closed her eyes against the tears.

She knew she was doing the right thing.

They had to keep Harry alive.

Harry was still screaming as Lily picked him up and held him close when she saw a figure in a black cloak approach out of the corner of her eye. She twirled to face the intruder, her posture tall and brave despite the fear in her heart. The pain of the slicing spell across her cheek was nothing compared to the pain of seeing her husband thrown to the floor as a woman with heavily lidded eyes threw curse after illegal curse at him.

"No!" Lily bawled as the man in the cloak pointed a wand at her neck to stop her from moving for her husband, "Please, take me instead! _Leave him alone!_ Kill me!"

The woman ignored Lily, her wand positioned at James' crumpled form on the ground, "Tell us what you know about the Dark Lord's disappearance!" The woman was insane, her black curls falling into her fuming eyes, "We know you've been talking to Albus Dumbledore!"

"We don't know anything!" Lily implored, hugging Harry and feeling the tears steak down her face, as James lay on the ground, lifeless, " _Please_!"

The woman turned her dark eyes on Lily, "We have it from a very reliable source that you and your mudblood loving husband have been working with Dumbledore for months! You were front-runners in The Dark Lord's disappearance! Don't deny it!"

Lily's hand gripped the back of Harry's face, shielding his eyes as the woman's wand came cracking town, striking James Potter in the back with lightening colored chords. Lily dropped to her knees as James' form barely twitched at the contact, struggling to say his name, struggling to get him to turn his eyes to her.

She needed to know he was okay.

She needed a reassuring smile.

She needed James to be okay because she _wasn't_ okay and she needed him more than anything on earth.

"Tell me mudblood!" The woman stepped over her husbands lifeless form as the person beside Lily grabbed her hair and yanked it back so Lily had to stare at the woman in the face, "Where is The Dark Lord?"

Lily choked on a sob, "I don't know…" she begged as the man yanked so hard on her hair some of his ripped, " _Please_ , don't hurt my son! I—I can't tell you anything!"

"Liar!" the woman arched her wand and suddenly, Harry dropped from Lily's arms to the floor, as Lily no longer had control of her body.

Pain radiated through every pore and Lily couldn't hear Harry's screaming anymore because she was screaming and her eyes felt like they were exploding from her head. Suddenly her vision brightened and she saw the picture, broken and by her hand on the floor, a photograph of all of them together. Harry was wearing his favorite jumper and James was smiling.

Her eyes looked at the dark.

 **XxX**

"Lily."

That's what they called her. They all had overly kind faces as they entered her bedroom to help her prepare for another day. The one with the bright yellow hair clucked her tongue like a mother when she saw Lily had slept without her dressing gown again. Lily hated the gown, it felt like she was being swaddled and made her skin itch. Another woman with dark brown hair grabbed a dress made of pink cotton.

"There you go Lily," the brunette always says as the pink folds fall over Lily's eyes, "A pretty dress, you've got a visitor today."

Lily followed the women out the door of the pale white bedroom with dark curtains into a hallway bathed in florescent lights. There were always a lot of people in the morning. Their voices carried like a whisper, in one ear and out the other. Once in the large room filled with seats and tables, Lily's shoulder relaxed as she sat down at a familiar table by a window.

It was Lily's favorite window because it overlooked a lake and Lily liked the lake. She especially loved when the kind ladies would take her for walks around the lake because Lily liked the way the sun felt on her skin. One of the kind ladies brought Lily some tea and scones. Lily would pick out the blueberries one by one, always leaving them on a napkin. Music floated across the room and Lily recognized none of it—but that was no surprise—the tunes were new just as the dress on her body was new.

"Alright there?"

A voice entered the conversation and suddenly the dreariness of the table lifted slightly as Lily looked up from her scones to see a man with untidy hair and a cuppa standing over her politely. He was dressed well, like she was, only his hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed in decades. Lily brushed a strand of her red hair out of her eyes and nodded politely at him.

He sat down and offered her a hand, "They call me James."

Lily stared blankly at his hand, "Hullo." She took it kindly, "I'm Lily."

James' eyes searched hers, all warmth and hazel, "You are very pretty."

Red raced across Lily's features and she retracted her hand to her lap. When she peeked up through her eyelashes the boy looked mighty pleased that he'd gotten her to smile so profusely and blush. The woman who had brought him over smiled wide, her brown hair swinging in front of her face as she apologized to Lily.

"James is new to the ward," the woman told Lily, "And simply had to come talk to you."

James pushed a pair of dark black specs up his nose as he nodded, "I told her, you are the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

Lily thought of her red hair, streaked with white. Lily thought of her hallowed face, streaked with pain.

"You must not have seen very many women than." Lily commented gloomily.

"I've seen thousands." He debated conceitedly, "And you've got the prettiest smile out of all of them."

Lily stared at her scone. The nurse chastised James, telling him to eat his food and stop flirting with the neighbors. James scoffed and had a lot of sass. Lily liked him.

"So," James said conversationally when his female companion turned away to talk to Lily's companions, "What'd they lock you up for?" Lily stared at him in wonderment as he bit into his scone then continued, "They told me I suffer from PTSD after some big fight I got into but that's all they'll tell me."

Lily doesn't answer him because she's never asked. She was too scared to ask and find out what was wrong with her. She was too scared to ask why she woke up in the middle of the night screaming for someone to come back for her—but it was too late—they were already gone.

Her fingers curled up into her pink dress, stained purple from the blueberries.

Darkness sat in the corners of Lily's life. It was shroud in capes and it had no face, just a lingering feeling of despair. The nice woman around Lily always tried to help her escape the grasping black fingers that leaked from the corners but no matter what they did—the darkness covered her mind like a blanket. It was hard for any light to creep in.

Lily's visitor came around lunchtime.

It was always the same visitors and Lily didn't know who they were. They often sat with her a while and complimented how she looked but they never stayed very long. Lily didn't mind because she didn't have much to say to strangers anyways. Sometimes though, there was a boy and Lily liked him best. He never stopped talking to her and didn't seem put off by the fact that she'd never talk back. The boy had been coming to see her for years and always brought her fantastic stories of flying motorbikes, humans who could change into animals, and chocolate frogs. He came to visit her once a week until he turned eleven and then he wrote to her from his school in Scotland.

He always attached a chocolate frog to his letters.

Lily saved all the trading cards for him.

She knew the little boy loved them so.

The boy didn't stop by as often though and so, Lily looked for him in the faces off all her visitors. Finally, around Christmastime, the boy returned and he was much older. Lily looked up from where she was knitting with a few other ladies and her mouth fell open. The boy had grown by at least two feet. He wore freshly pressed robes and his hair was thrown to one side of his head haphazardly. Lily admired his shaven face as his almond shaped eyes glanced around the room to finally land on her.

His smile melted her heart.

"Hello!" he said excitedly as she put her knitting things down, "Can I have a hug?"

Lily shook as she stood up from her chair and he crossed the room in one fair stride, wrapping his arms around her in a motion that made her feel secure. Lily breathed in as he embraced her, the familiar smell of spice coming from his clothes. Her eyes opened when he let go from the hug and that's when a freckled woman appeared at his side.

Lily took a step back and the boy looked concerned. The woman grabbed onto the boy's arm possessively, staring at Lily with inquisitiveness. He normally came with another man, one who always stayed rather far from her, as if she frightened him. The man always wore a grin expression even if the boy was all smiles.

The boy reminded Lily, "I'm Harry."

Lily nodded, "I remember."

The woman stepped forward; prompting Lily to step back, "I'm Ginny Weasley."

Lily admired the freckled girl's hair, braided elaborately down the side of her head. Lily pointed at the braid and then to her own red hair that was spiraling down her back. The woman, Ginny, looked at Harry in confusion and Harry laughed.

"She likes your hair."

Ginny beamed before considering Lily, "Would you like me to braid your hair?"

A curious smile touched Lily's face but one of the woman who helped Lily in the mornings stepped forward to block Ginny from moving closer.

"You cannot tug on her hair." The woman whispered urgently to the couple, "When Lily first arrived, anyone who even _touched_ her hair would get fingernails to their eyes…I haven't even been able to get it up in the past seventeen years."

Lily hated the shock on Ginny's face and the revulsion on Harry's. Lily fell into her seat, pushing the knitting needles away with one swipe. They clattered to the floor. One of Lily's nurses frowned and immediately bent down to grab them but Harry did so first, placing them gently in Lily's lap.

"It's alright," Harry said affectionately, his revulsion gone from his face, "No harm done, Ginny was just being nice."

Lily stared at the man, frazzled, "Why?"

Suddenly more nurses walked in and a man with dark messy hair similar to Harry's entered. Harry, as if sensing her eyes, turned his head to get a good look at the man. The man was a spitting image of Harry, now that Lily saw them in the same room. Lily wondered if they were related.

"Are you a Potter?" the man asked Harry, also noticing the similarity.

Harry chuckled and stood up from Lily's side to face the man respectfully, "I am," Harry announced, "My fathers side."

"James Potter," the man stuck out his hand and Harry, Lily's Harry, shook James' hand comfortably.

"We've met actually." Harry told James with a smile, "A couple of times when you were back in Levinstown Hospital."

"Have we?" James whistled, "Well, I always said I've got the memory of a fish."

Harry laughed and the sound was so pure to Lily, it felt as if her heart was on fire as she watched the boys banter. James let go of Harry's hand and looked directly past Ginny to where Lily was sitting. His hazel eyes lit up.

"You again." He breathed, ecstatic.

Harry tilted his head in confusion and Lily ducked her head as a nurse said quietly, "They've been meeting off and on the past couple of months but nothing had changed, Mr. Potter. They always forget."

James tore his eyes from Lily's to look at the nurse, "What's changed?"

"Nothing." Harry repeated, almost sourly, "Why don't we all have some lunch together?"

Lunch wasn't as dreadful as Lily expected. Lily sat next to Harry. The man James sat next to Ginny. Harry talked to Lily about school, apologizing for being gone so much but he was helping out his friend Neville Longbottom with a task that took him out of the country for a while.

"It wasn't that exciting," Harry promised Lily over soup, "Mostly just long nights camping in the woods."

"Camping?" James asked from beside Ginny.

"He's awful at it if you ask me," Ginny grinned, "Came back to Hgowarts complaining of a bad haircut for _weeks_."

"Hermione did the shottiest haircut in the world." Harry rolled his eyes as he ruffled his messy black hair comfortably, "It's just _finally_ growing back to normal."

"You've got the good Potter hair." James nodded firmly, " _Say_ who're your parents again?"

Lily's eyes turn to Harry and Harry's eyes fluttered back to her. Harry said nothing because he could not tell James what he told Lily every time he visited as a child.

He knew how much it hurt Lily every time he said it.

"You're my mother."

If that was true and she couldn't remember him, Lily thought that made her a pretty awful mother. Harry cried when she' turn his words down. Harry never cried anymore and never told Lily she was his mother.

Now he just brought Lily chocolate frogs and warm hugs.

"You probably wouldn't recognize the names." Harry replied to James casually, "We were off the Black family tree."

After lunch was over and Harry was saying his goodbyes, Lily settled into a chair by the fire with the box of chocolate frogs harry had brought her. James settled right next to her, staring at her like she was made of stardust. Lily turned her cheek away from James to the boy who had grown so much since she'd last seen him. Harry was speaking to the women with the bright yellow hair.

"I'm sorry," the woman uttered softly, "Even he hasn't jogged any recollection for Lily and the Healer isn't convinced she'd helping him."

Harry's voice carried over to the rocking chairs, "We've all seen his art. He loves her."

"We can't have Lily go into relapse if he acts out and lose what ground we have," the woman, said somewhat harshly, "I'm sorry Harry, but they just aren't stable enough to hear the truth yet."

"Your right." Harry finally gave in, "He could hurt her and then—"

Ginny placed her hand on Harry's forearm as Harry's shoulders slumped, "You must know you are doing the right thing."

Harry turned his eyes on the woman he'd come with, "The right thing would've been to bring them back together years ago."

All eyes turned to Lily and James. They continued talking and their voices were no longer traveling. James leaned forward in his chair to nudge her playfully with his foot. Lily turned her eyes on him disdainfully but he was all goofy smiles and charming winks.

"Want to break out and go for a walk?" he asked her.

Lily blinked softly, "What?"

James was thrilled she'd answered, "I know a few of the nurses really well." He replied quickly, "I can get them to give us walking time together, tomorrow?"

Lily didn't know why but she nodded and James looked as if she'd accepted a marriage proposal. Before James could say anymore, their nurses had returned. Lily's eyes searched the room and found that Harry and his friend had disappeared. Already Lily was trying to memorize every look on Harry's face. It did her no good of course; she'd already forgotten the exact color of his eyes by the next morning so she imagined them green like hers.

Lily was startled when the woman with the blonde hair surprised her with her walking shoes. Lily was put into a warm cloak and given a pretty headscarf to wear. It was freezing downstairs as the nurses walked her to the back door, wands aloft. When they passed people Lily was aware of the pitying glances sent her way. She tried to ignore them but it grew hard sometimes to remember that to the outside world—Lily was damaged beyond repair.

Once outside, the cold wintry air hit her cheeks. The woman walked her down to the lakeside where a tall boy with glasses was waiting. Lily perked up as she recognized the trademark hair.

 _Harry?_

When the man turned to face Lily there were slightly off putting things about his face. Lily's Harry didn't have a slightly upturned nose. Harry's twin was a darker russet color and his eyes were round and hazel tinted. Lily wasn't the only one staring.

"You're beautiful." When the man smiled Lily flushed and she didn't know why.

"Always a charmer this one," one of the woman in the red cloaks laughed, "Are you both ready for you walk?"

Lily watched the boy's breathe float across the air like mist. She took a deep breath and blew out, smoke pouring from her mouth like she was a dragon. The boy laughed and did the same, until they were breathing smoke at each other, back and forth. The nurses loved their game and laughed along with Lily and her new friend.

When she was getting winded from the game she stopped and stared at the boy, who was smiling broadly. He had a wide forehead and she liked the way his glasses only made his hazel orbs bigger, as if he were constantly surprised by life.

"I'm James." He told her.

"Lily."

Lily met James for a walk every day that month. Sometimes it was too cold and Lily's helpers would bring her to the study hall where James was already waiting with a cup of herbal tea. He liked to talk, just like Harry. In fact, he talked more than Harry _and_ he talked with his hands. He knocked over a teacup a day when he got the most enthusiastic.

Lily loved his stories, she didn't know if they were all true but she had a feeling that he didn't know either.

When he wasn't throwing his hands around, James spent a lot of the afternoons drawing on scraps of paper as he talked to her. Lily's favorite drawing was of his broken teacups. He laughed at her for that and grabbed her hand. She wasn't startled by the movement and allowed him to drag her down the hall after sneaking them past the nurse guarding the door.

She felt like a child as they snuck into one of the bedrooms by the elevator. James pushed open the door without letting go of her hand. Lily's jaw dropped. Every inch of the room was covered in drawings. Lily let go of James' hand so she could properly investigate each photo. James pointed out his favorites.

"That's a hippogriff." He said of one drawing of a winged creature, "And over here I drew my mate Sirius, you'd like him, he's clever."

Lily stared at a picture of James' friend keenly. The boy in the portrait was handsome, with a slight shadow of doubt somehow drawn into his expression. There was a fanged earring on his left ear and a smirk flying across his right cheek. Lily found that if she stared at the sketch long enough it looked like someone she knew from a dream.

"Come here." James called to her from a corner by his bed stand.

Lily took her time walking over to where James stood impatiently for her. Some paintings were of a great vast lake and some were of three tall hoops glinting in the sunlight. There were more and more sketches as she draw closer to his bed. Sketches of wizards in cloaks. Sketches of a tawny owl and black cat.

"This one's my favorite."

Lily's heart leapt in her throat.

 _That's me._

The arch of the nose was shaded perfectly. The sketch portrayed Lily as hauntingly beautiful, like a ghost. The stroke marks were precariously placed so that her skin seemed to float off the page. Lily reached out to touch the portrait, feeling the raised indentations where James had inked the sharp curve to her jaw.

"There's more." James seemed encouraged by her hush and opened the drawer of his bedside table to pull out a handful of papers, all with Lily's face on them.

Some of the portraits were even colored, showing off vivid green eyes. Lily stared longingly at one sketch where her face seemed softer and her smile seemed real. In that portrait she was _even_ holding a wand aloft playfully, instead of staring at the end of a wand in fear.

"I knew the moment I saw you." James said from behind her as she stared at another sketch of her frowning, "I _knew_ you were the same girl I kept seeing in my dreams and sketching for years…"

James picked up the drawing where Lily was laughing, "This was the first one I ever drew—sixteen years ago."

Lily turned, her back against the bedframe as she stared at him, "Sixteen years?"

"I think it's been that long." He whispered, "That's what Sirius told me."

Lily blinked at him, noticing the way his eyes turned dark, like the same darkness that haunted her was creeping into him.

Lily reached up and touched his cheek fondly, "Don't let the darkness take you."

When his eyes shifted and he looked back down at her there was a hardness to his features, "I'm in love with you."

It was a statement so bold and so without reservation. It startled Lily but only for a moment because he seemed so sure about loving her that she _couldn't_ question it because she could only stare at him in astonishment.

"Can I draw you like you are right now?" he murmured, "You seem so surprised."

"Yes." She replied as his hand cupped her face.

"Lily! _James_! There you are!"

The nurses found them and reprimanded them both for running off.

"I love her." He told them decisively, "We _want_ to be together, right Lily?"

Lily couldn't answer but she stared at James and knew with every ounce of her being that something drew her to him. The nurses whispered to each other as they forced Lily and James back into the main recreation area. Funnily enough though, after James' declaration, Lily and James were allowed to spend more and more time alone together.

James sketched Lily as she knitted.

James painted little flowers onto her arm with a paintbrush.

They went for walks around the lake.

Lily taught him how to knit.

James taught her how to draw.

"I like spending time with you." James told Lily honestly as she tucked one of his sketches into her dress pocket.

"Me too." She managed to garble incoherently, even though there was so much more she wanted to tell him.

James kissed her cheek during their before-bedtime walk down the halls on New Years Eve. His mouth lingered just enough by her own lips, allowing her to breathe deeply despite his close proximity. It was strange to Lily how one man could make her feel so safe and comfortable but she didn't want to question her feelings for fear of losing herself. Lily finally let the words she'd been holding back slip from her lips as he pulled away from his kiss.

 _"I love you."_

He just stared blankly at her and didn't say it back. His hazel eyes darkened and his fists curled at his side as a torturous expression leaked across his normally calm features. Lily watched as his companions helped walk him away, talking to him in undertones Lily couldn't hear.

"James!" Lily shouted worriedly after him as one of the women pointed their wands at his neck, " _James!"_

Lily's own nurses forced her backwards towards her own room as she began shaking. They forced her into her dressing gown and back into her stiff bed. Lily lay there in reserve, her fingers grasped around a piece of parchment where James had sketched their names together.

 **xXx**

January 1st was quiet and still.

Lily went to the main hall with a nurse only to find James wasn't waiting in his usual spot. Worry was pumped into every vein in her body and Lily's eyes frantically buzzed about the room for her friend.

She had lost so much.

She didn't want to lose him.

She _couldn't_ afford to lose him.

"Is something wrong Lily?" the nurse noticed Lily's panic and stepped forward, "Speak, Lily, speak."

"No, James."

The nurse looked around and noticed what Lily had; James was missing from his rocking chair. The nurse placed a hand on Lily's arm and Lily winced at the contact, jumping away. In response the nurse ripped her wand out from her robes, ready to disable Lily's thoughts with one swift flick.

"What's going on?" another nurse came upon the scene with worry on her face, "How can I help?"

"She's spooking over James." Another nurse replied as Lily sank to her knees.

"James." Lily muttered, fingers scratching down her cheeks as her eyes fluttered around the room for his smile, "I need James."

"Where is he?" all the nurses in the area had their wands out now.

"I heard Amanda say he had a bad episode last night, they had to bind him to the bed, he kept fighting them and yelling for _her_."

"Well great, now _she's_ having a bad episode without _him_ around to soothe her."

"Lily? Lily honey you need to get up… _Lily_!"

The room twirled for a few seconds and then Lily's eyes closed against their own free will.

Lily woke up eventually, like she always did, but this time was different because she was hyperaware that the room she was in wasn't her own. Lily turned her cheek on the pillow and saw she was in a new room with walls whiter than snow. Swallowing, Lily sat up, the sheets stiff against her bare legs. The dressing gown they'd put her in was prickly against her arms.

Someone came rushing through the door the moment she moved. She looked nice, like all of the woman in red robes looked. Lily still shivered against the strange woman's touch, not liking how it felt. It reminded her of the first time she'd woken up in a strange room with people surrounding her bed. Friendly faces that shouted names and things at her until she burst into tears and never saw them again.

"How are you feeling Lily?"

Lily's mouth stayed clamped shut as the woman in red finished an entire body exam getting nothing from Lily except a few short head nods. Once Lily was deemed healthy, a balding man with round glasses entered the room. Lily recognized him from some sort of nightmare. Something in Lily's mind made her heart start beating a little faster.

"This is Healer Morrison, Lily," the kind woman introduced the man, "He wants to speak with you."

The healer took a seat on a black rolling chair that squeaked when it moved. Lily sat stiffly in place, feeling hazy and confused as the healer stared her down. The healer was dressed in white robes and he seemed to glow under the florescent lights above. Lily rubbed her eyes to stop him from becoming two people.

"Dizzy?" The healer asked.

Lily nodded tersely.

"Do you know why you blacked out?"

Lily breathed sharply and then shook her head.

"Do you remember Harry?"

Lily breathed and then shook her head again.

"Do you remember James?"

Lily squeezed her fists shut, feeling lonely and afraid, "Who?"

The Healer's eyes softened and he put his quill down. Lily noticed beyond the Healer's right shoulder there was a window and it overlooked a city street. Lots of people were bundled up because snow covered the ground like a soft white blanket. Lily wished she was buried in the snow, rather than buried in the starch white covers they'd placed her in.

Lily sat in silence and stared out her window.

"Lily?" the woman in red asked for attention faintly.

The Healer shook his head, "She's already gone."

* * *

 **I've been wanting to write this one for a while and I finally sat down and got it out. I'm sorry for depressing ya'll if I did. I just couldn't keep this one trapped inside my head anymore. Leave me a review and let me know if you hate me!**

 **xxx**

 **Petals**


	2. James

**Happy Jilytober fellow nerds. I wrote you another chapter for Fade because I hate myself.**

* * *

It's November first and James is perfectly content while wrapped up under the covers with his wife. He wants to stay draped in her warm embrace forever but suddenly the cry of an infant startles both Lily and James apart from each other. Next door, their small son is crying for James. A smile spreads across Lily's face as James groans and throws the pillow over her head.

"Daddaaaaaaaa."

Lily giggles as James calls out, "Coming Harry!"

That only made the 15-month-old baby cry out more. Lily wrinkles her nose at her husband and kicks his ankles playfully under the covers. James kisses her cheek before stretching his arms to the headboard. The babies cries could not be ignored or he'd wake the whole neighborhood—silencing spells be damned.

"Why does Harry insist on me being the one to get him up?"

"Go get him," Lily tells James, "I'll meet you both downstairs for pancakes."

James rolls out from under the covers, goose bumps immediately rising on his back as he pulls on flannel pajama bottoms that are on the floor. James' feet drag him into the bedroom where Harry is standing in his crib, reaching his pudgy arms out for his father.

"How's my favorite son doing this morning?!" James asks Harry affectionately.

"He's your only son!" Lily calls jokingly from the other bedroom.

James chuckles and then picks Harry up, swinging the boy in the air. Harry giggles cheerfully as James pulls him in close for a hug. Harry' fingers take a fistful of James' mouth and tugs on James' face playfully. James pretends to kiss every one of Harry's fingers. The mobile over Harry's bed spins when Harry's feet kick out and activate it. James hears Lily make her way down the stairs. He takes the time to make sure Harry is clean and proper for breakfast with his mum and dad.

Once downstairs, James makes his way into the kitchen where Lily is bent over the table, reading the owl post. James eyes her robe, the fabric slipping down one shoulder, leaving it perfectly kissable. Harry spots his mum too and squeals, reaching for her.

"Mama!"

James takes the opportunity to pass Harry off to Lily, "He wants you."

Lily takes Harry in her arms and kisses his pudgy baby cheek carefully before turning back to the newspaper. James saunters over to the small cooling box where Lily keeps milk and juice. He looks inside for some proper breakfast materials.

"Want me to start on some bacon?" he asks merrily.

"James."

The way her tone falters, as if unsure, made James' hairs stand up on the back of his neck. James turns to see that Lily has tears streaking down her face as she holds Harry in the crook of one arm, balancing the paper in her spare hand. James drops the orange juice on the floor and rushes to her side, pulling her hair back so he can search her face for answers. Getting none, he turns his attention to the newspaper clutched in her free hand.

The headline is large and in bold letters: You-Know-Who Has Fallen! Wizarding World In Shock!

A million thoughts race through James' brain in a matter of seconds. Most importantly; if James' family didn't overcome the Dark Lord as suggested by the prophecy…then whose family defeated You-Know-Who?

"Gone?" James croaks, "How's that possible—"

A sound startles Lily and James from the front entryway before they can process the news. The door is thrown open wildly; James hears it crash against the pram in the hallway. The Potter's eyes meet instantly and James looks around wildly for his wand—which is still upstairs—he curses in frustration. He could tell by the look on Lily's face that her wand is still upstairs too.

"Lily, take Harry and go!" James pushes Lily behind him towards the windows in the kitchen, "Go! I'll hold them off!"

Lily takes one last look at her husband before scrambling away, "I love you."

He falls to the floor only seconds later, having been hit dead in the heart with some jinx that made his limbs feel as if they are on fire. He is unable to move. He is unable to think. There is nothing but agony and the hope that the screams he's hearing are his own.

 **xXx**

He's a blank slate when he awakens. The world is grey and colorless, his fingers ache to move and paint his world bright again. He's always been an artist; the Healers bring him paints and quills of all different colors to make him feel better. It is James' drawings that keep him sane when the maddening memories threaten to creep back into his subconscious. He draws palaces from little figments of portraits that flutter across his mind. He makes pretty curly letters that form names of people he does not remember. He paints a woman with red hair and glowing green eyes.

He paints her the most. She covers his room in a borderline obsessive manner. She is different each time he sees her in his dreams. Sometimes she is laughing against a grass-covered background. Sometimes she is under a pile of sheets, covered in his kisses. Other times she is holding a baby with hair as black as a ravens wing. Life is anything but fair and dangles the woman as a model that he has no name for. James doesn't know who she is and the Healers can't tell him anything but James knows that she is special and he doesn't know who he is without pictures of her floating across his mind.

He is not allowed from his room until the healers clear him and the mysterious woman is his muse. Sometimes a few other faces come forward in his brain. There's a man with a fanged earring. There's a wolfish grin over a plate of spaghetti. There's a boy with a handful of sweets laughing beside a tree covered in lights. Besides faces, he gets flashes of castles and cottages.

These are the things he paints. He tries to forget the woman with black eyes. He tries to forget images of blood splattered walls and darkened alleyways. He pushes away magic wands and vampires. He struggles to overlook the way his hands shake when his world goes dark.

Most days are hard; the Healers do a lot of talking. They try to get James to work through his bad feelings, the ones that hurt the people around him. Sometimes James is strapped to a chair, forced to relive when he was lying on the cold ground being tortured by a woman with curly black hair. James hates her laugh; sometimes it interrupts his daydreams of the woman with green eyes.

As always though, he gets better. Slowly, he is allowed out of his room. He is never sure if he is in a new hospital or not, having no capability to recall much after a really bad episode. He'd heard his nurses talking about how the last episode of madness had left James immobile for months.

He is determined not to fall down the rabbit hole again, resolute to not let the madness get to him.

The nurses take James for small walks to the main foyer of the Hospital every morning. On his second day of walking, he spots a familiar batch of red hair by a window. It is a woman with a familiar sharp jawline, staring out into a summertime garden wistfully. James nudges his nurse, pointing to the girl curiously.

"Who is that?" he asks in a tone that implies he is interested.

The Healer doesn't even glance over at the red haired woman sitting in silence, "One of the patients here."

"I want to talk to her." James says, walking away from his Healer and towards the woman with red hair.

"I don't think she wants to be bothered James," the Healer sighes, as if she'd dealt with this before.

James ignores his Healer and creeps up next to the table. The red haired woman is picking at a blueberry muffin. She takes all the blueberries out, staining her fingers purple in the process. James marvels at the sharp curve to her nose, so alike with that of the woman in his dreams.

"Hullo."

The woman turns her eyes away from the window that depicted a summer wonderland and they fall onto James warily. James almost takes a step back in surprise. Her eyes are as green as the grass covering the ground outside. The emerald is intense and he knows he'll never be able to forget the way they looked at him with wonder.

She is the girl in his dreams.

"I'm James." He tells her and she blinks, once or twice, before letting her eyes leave him and travel to his nurse.

"I'm Lily." She says without looking at him.

He had to get Lily to look at him again, he needs to see her eyes, "You're beautiful."

That made her eyes turn back to him, red filtering across her cheeks as if she'd stepped into the sun. He simultaneously felt the darkness creeping back through the corners of his mind and felt the light exploding in his chest when she smiled. She shone like a star and he was going up in flames under her bright shine.

"James is new to the ward." The nurse tells Lily gently.

"I told her that I just had to talk to you." James smiles, pushing his glasses up his nose as he stares at her eagerly.

Lily gazes at her blueberries, which were staining the napkin she'd placed them in. Her red hair was greying near the roots, but it still fell beautifully around her thin shoulders. James thought her dress was pretty too, a lovely shade of blue for a woman with creamy skin like hers. He wants to draw this woman as he saw her now: real and not at all dreamlike.

James took his breakfast at Lily's table. He tries to start up conversation with her but she would hardly look at him, her fingers are curling into the edges of her pretty dress. James doesn't know why she won't talk to him. It was almost worst, having her in real life and not getting a word out of her versus having her in his dreams where she whispered dangerously poignant words into his ear.

Lily stays silent the whole week, not talking to James even though he tried his hardest to find talking points. Eventually, he gives into her silence and just sits quietly beside to her. Every once in a while he would get a kind smile from her as he sat down. All James knew was that around Lily, life seems a little simpler. He craves her smile, even at night when they drug James to get him to sleep; he desires the light in the darkness.

Since it was summer, the nurses take him outside to sketch. James is busy sketching a tree by the small pond in the garden when surprisingly; Lily came to sit beside him. He struggles to not to flinch or to say anything to her because he is worried that he might scare her away. Instead, James focuses on his drawing, sketching a poignant doe in between the trees. Lily watches with her enchanting green eyes skimming his paper, the look itself turning his skin to shivers.

"You draw very well."

He can't help but look up when her voice echoes through his ears. He feels himself buckle under her shy smile and he is in love with her without any other explanation.

"Thank you." He flips through the notebook to show her more; "I drew this dog last week."

Lily crosses her legs and takes the sketchbook, her fingers brushing across his. James wonders if she felt the spark between them, the electric shock that ran from his fingers straight to his heart. James watches as she gawks at the wolfish dog he'd drawn after a dream of a friendly werewolf afflicted his reveries all last week.

"I like them."

"Can I draw you?" he asks her apprehensively and her eyes widen at him.

"You want to draw me?" she whispers, shocked.

"Yes," he says, "I've wanted to draw you since I met you."

She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and hands him back his booklet, "Why?"

James licks his lips, "Because you remind me of someone..."

"Okay," she says self-consciously, "You can draw me."

James excitedly flips his pages until he finds a blank sheet. He doesn't care that he's got ink on his fingers as he eagerly dips his quill into the inkpot at his side. Lily is sitting beside him, holding herself so that she seems to be sitting atop a grassy throne. In all the other drawings of the red haired woman he had done, James recalled her green eyes being so alive.

The green eyes that he sketches across the paper now are dead.

"Why are you here?" he asks Lily as he sketches the way her hair falls in small tendrils over her shoulder.

She doesn't reply and he continues, "They told me I have PTSD from some fight I got into with a witch." He keeps speaking, even though he knows Lily probably won't say anything, "I think the Healers keep a lot of secrets."

"Why do you think they keep secrets?" her voice is barely above a whisper.

James pauses his quill, "I think they're afraid I'll turn into a monster if any of my memories come back."

There's silence and then she offers, "You don't look like a monster."

Her tone is kind and James lifts his eyes from his paper to see Lily staring at him, almost adoringly. James tries to capture that look as he drew her into life on the page. When he is almost done the nurses tell them it is time to head inside for dinner. Lily walks alongside James, her hand brushing his in a way that felt weird because she wasn't holding his hand like he wanted.

"Want to have dinner with me?" she asks as the nurses lead them into the dining hall.

Suddenly embarrassed, James looks down at his shoes, "I eat in my room."

Lily's eyes are wide and naïve, "That's okay." She lies, "I like to eat alone anyways."

When James leaves Lily to follow a nurse back to his room he feels almost as if he'd lost something. The nurse brings him a tray filled with beef stew and he eats it slowly, wondering if he could finish his drawing later. Abruptly, behind him, the door is opened. James turns in his chair and sees with great surprise that Lily is in his room. Her Healer is behind her, carrying a tray of food similar to his. Lily is chewing her bottom lip, her hands folded in front of her pretty dress.

"Can I eat in here with you?" she murmurs shyly.

"I'd love that." James moves over and makes room for his new companion.

The nurses stay in the room with them. Lily stares at James' drawings as she eats, her eyes taking in the world inside his head. James notices her staring at the portrait of a woman whose red hair covered her face. James takes Lily's hand and leads her to his desk, pulling open a drawer and pulling out other pages that have her face on them.

Lily pulls the pages from his hands in awe, "That looks like me."

James leans over her shoulder, "I mostly have nightmares." He divulges, "But sometimes I've dreamed of a girl just like you."

Lily looks up at him in admiration as the nurses watch over the pair with their wands drawn, as if Lily and James would start attacking each other. James doesn't think he could ever hurt the woman looking at him now like he held the world in his hands.

"I'm in love with you." He tells Lily tenderly.

Her eyes shift, going from cold to warm in the matter of seconds. She doesn't say anything but she takes his hand. One of the Healers walks over and puts her hand on Lily's shoulder.

"It's time for bed Lily," the Healer tells her, "We can see James tomorrow."

Lily blinks apprehensively and grips James' hand harder.

"What if I forget him?" she looks at her Healer worriedly.

"Don't worry," the nurse says kindly, patting Lily's head as if she were a child, "He will still be here in the morning, we have to go back and get your potions."

Lily's green eyes flutter back to James nervously, "I don't sleep well."

"I don't either."

He does not have a good night. He is tortured by nightmares. He awoke covered in a sheen of sweat and is shivering so much that the Healers have to cover him in extra blankets. Lily isn't allowed to see him; he hears her asking outside of the door. He draws her eyes again later that night and they are curious.

The next day is better and he is allowed to go to breakfast in the hall. He could've spent a hundred days away and it would've been okay because of the wide smile Lily gives him when he sits down at her table by the window. He'd pay a thousand galleons to make her smile every time that she saw him. They eat together in blissful silence. The nurses let them sit together the rest of the day by a fireplace. James sketches and Lily knits. She makes him a hat colored maroon and gold. James wears it with pride, earning another winning smile from Lily.

They spend every day together, soon becoming so attached that when James does feel the lash of lightening against his mind, he can take Lily's hand and suddenly everything seems all right. Of course, it is harder for Lily to escape the darkness. Sometimes she forgets he is there and sometimes she is unable to drag her mind from the dark figures haunting her. He wakes her up more than once by the fire; unable to take the tears streaking down her cheeks.

"What happened to Lily?" James asks the Healers and they all have pursed lips, glancing at each other fearfully.

Lily didn't even seem to know what happened to her. When she tries to remember she goes very still and seems to fade before his very eyes. Eventually, James stops asking. A whole month passes and the nurses throw a little party for them, inviting a friend of Lily's. He has messy black hair like James and wears a freckled woman on his arm like she is a Queen. Lily obviously adores the young man, constantly staring at him with a respect James had never gotten from her.

Lily has known the man, Harry, for a long time it seemed. It is his birthday and she gives him a whole stack of chocolate frog cards. The freckled woman Harry brought is loud and kind, always asking Lily if she needs anything. James is reminded of a mother that he doesn't remember.

"How long have you known Lily?" James asks the man when Lily took her turn to get a piece of cake from the Healers.

"Eighteen years." He replies, "Sometimes she forgets me though—so right now she'd probably tell you a few months."

"How did she end up in here?" James asks Harry, brow furrowed.

Harry turns to look at James, "How did _you_ end up in here?"

"I don't know, I can't remember." James says bitterly, "But I wish I did."

"It's better when you don't know things." Harry replies sadly as Lily wanders over with her cake.

James wonders what Harry meant. He ponders what could be such a painful memory that it was better not knowing. James hears Harry talking to the Healers while he and Lily sit by the fire together once the party is over. The nurses are talking in undertones but their voices carry in the peaceful room.

"He hasn't relapsed like he did before and Lily's given him plenty of opportunities. But it always ends the same, Harry. It's happened countless times since we moved them back together. They won't ever be the same as they were before the accident."

Harry's voice sounds pained, "It's always the same. He loves her and she loves him—even when they revert."

"Lily ultimately triggers his meltdowns." The Healer warns, "James is a ticking time bomb around Lily."

"Harry, the last time James was in lockdown for _months_." Ginny, the freckled woman, speaks now, "Maybe it'd be best if we took James back to Levinstown Hospital."

"We're not separating them." Harry says firmly, "One day, they've got to wake up."

"Harry," Ginny sounds close to tears, "They're _gone_."

"They're not lost until they can't love each other anymore."

James knows somehow that they are talking about his relationship with Lily. Something about Lily triggers his memories and sends him into the storms he tries to keep at bay. James wonders how many times they'd played this game and how many times he'd been forced to forget Lily. James swallows deeply as Lily's head lolls onto his shoulder, her fingers wrapping up possessively in his clothes.

Harry isn't wrong at all; James loves Lily more than anything, even if she is his destruction.

 **XxX**

Summertime fades into fall and Lily still stays with him. The green leaves turn the color of Lily's hair and fall to the ground. James takes her for walks outside as the breeze turns to wind and chills her to the bone. James keeps her warm, throwing his arm around her shoulder. The nurses beg them to stop being so lovely and take pictures of them together by the fall foliage. One of the nurses even cries when Lily ducks her head into James' arm shyly.

Harry reappears on Halloween, bringing with him candy and a candid smile.

"James!" Harry wears a beard, looking astonishingly older, "Lily!"

Lily and James had been reading by the fireplace. Lily drops her book and stands up, swaying on her feet as she allows Harry to throw his arms around her in a big hug. James wishes he could hug Lily like that, so boldly, without the fear of setting off the tricks of his mind. James stands up next and shakes Harry's hand favorably.

"I thought I'd come see how you were doing." Harry tells them as they take their seats again, "Ginny sends her love but she couldn't come—she's got a big game tomorrow."

"A game?" James asks, his head tilting in confusion.

"Quidditch." Harry replies chattily, "She's chaser for the Holyheads."

Eagerly James sits forward in his chair, "Do you play quidditch?"

"Yeah," Harry seems happy by the turn of conversation, "I'm a seeker. Youngest Gryffindor seeker in a century actually."

James' says hungrily, "I draw the pitch a lot, the Healers told me so."

Harry looks tense before he replies quietly, "Perhaps you played once."

James hears Harry talking to the nurses again before he left.

"They've been together almost a whole year." He sounds confident, "When can we start bringing more people in? Sirius is dying to speak to Lily and I know Remus would've wanted Teddy to meet James."

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter." The Healer says gloomily, "We just don't think this progress will last."

Harry swipes his hand though his hair irately, "What will you do if he relapses?"

"I think we both know what will happen if he upsets her."

James looks down at Lily, sitting with her hands clasped in her lap as she watches the flames in the fireplace. Why would James ever hurt Lily? Why are they all so sure she is his demise? Sitting in front of the fireplace, covered in the golden shadows, she seems like his savior. She places her chin on his shoulder late that night with her hands clasped in his, breathing lightly beside his ear.

"Lily?" he whispers.

She hums to show that she is awake.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" he asks, hoping that if he made plans, tomorrow would have to happen.

"This." Her fingers curl tighter into his shirt and he feels a lurch in his heart, "I love you."

She's like a storm; her words act like the wind and blow him away. James can see right through Lily's eyes. The green is a shade he's only seen in his dreams, almost like the color of glass that washes up on shore after a storm. The affectionate look in her eyes makes him go momentarily blind and cuts him deep like a knife.

 _"I love you."_

He can remember it now, as if it happened yesterday and not many years ago. He can remember Lily in her nightgown, gripping their son as she tells him goodbye for what they thought would be the last time. He remembers the secrets they kept, hiding away from the wizard who wanted them dead. He remembers falling to the floor of their kitchen. He recalls her screams echoing through his ears. He remembers the lies he's been told since.

Above all, he remembers loving her more than anything else on earth.

He can't do anything about it because the damage is done and the trigger is pulled.

His hands begin shaking and he struggles to block out the screams in head that are drowning out her current low refrain of his name. His name on her lips assaults him like her lightening quick words and he feels his fists tightening.

He can feel the pain of the spells on his back.

He can hear the disjointed laughter of the witch that tortured him for information.

The darkness is closing in and it's dampening the light in everything, including the woman standing in front of him.

 _"James."_

He cannot resist the memories that come flooding back to his brain like a river floods a valley in a rainstorm. He crumples towards the floor and strong hands catch him before his knees hit the cold tile. His eyes meet hers for the first time in years; they really grasp her and cling on. He cannot believe she's alive and that she's as broken as he is.

He didn't save her.

There was nowhere to run from all of the havoc in his head, nowhere to hide from all the maddening memories. He keeps losing the fight, time after time.

 _"I'm sorry."_

She stares at him for a moment and he thinks she isn't going to reply but then she whispers back, "I don't want to lose you."

There it was, the trigger, a look in her eyes that made him go wild. A look that cut him so deep it was like it opened up old wounds. A look that had the hair standing up on the back of his neck as she leaned closer, closing in on him as the darkness swirled it's taunting fingers against his mind. Lily's lips press against his but she can't keep him from the madness, not even with her fingers so desperately trying to pull him into her.

"Please." Her words pressed into his ear, " _Please_."

He can feel the fury of his pain, thrashing across the old scars along his back. He couldn't run now, he is trapped in the arms of his daydream spun nightmare. He is trapped in the arms of the woman he can't save.

 _"Lily, take Harry and go!"_

James' fingers wrap against her arms and the dark crept back in just as he hears Lily scream.

 **xXx**

There is no pillow for his head when he wakes up strapped to a bed. There are no windows so he doesn't know what day it is, or time. His entire body aches, like he'd been run over by an entire herd of centaurs. The walls are covered in pictures of memories he cannot remember of a life he once lived before the attack that had twisted him into such a meaningless shell of the man he'd been before. In every other drawing, a woman with amazing eyes stared back at him, teasing him like a temptress. James wondered who the woman was and why he yearned to draw her face so shattered, like it had been just before he woke up from another nightmare.


	3. Harry (Part 1)

**Happy Birthday Harry! I wrote you angst to remind you that things coulda been worse.**

* * *

In the bedroom where Sirius sleeps, there's a photograph of a woman with red hair smiling. Harry stares at it early in the morning, cuddled next to his Godfather, green eyes reflecting the same color and shape as the woman in the picture. Harry is five now and he knows Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius aren't his parents. Old Bertha next door commented so one night when she thought Harry hadn't been listening. Beside him in the bed, his Godfather is snoring. Sirius has one arm slung over the side of the bed. Sirius, who had come to get Harry when he woke up screaming from a nightmare, had his other arm wrapped around Harry's tiny body. Sirius held Harry close as he stayed awake, too terrified of the dreams he had to fall back asleep.

The duvet was almost covering Harry's head as he peeked out and around the large room. He'd been so accustomed to the room, everything in the room lay untouched. The curtains still swung a bit from the cracked window. The bathrobe hanging on a chair by the window had been there for as long as Harry could remember. The pictures that lined the walls of people and places Harry didn't always know were yellowed and worn by the sun that filtered in. The only thing that changed were the positions of the pillows and bedsheets. Sometimes the dresser drawer would be open and Harry got a peek of scarlet and gold sweaters. Harry didn't understand why his Uncles never really touched many of the things in this particular room but he knew they handled everything in the house gently—as if they didn't own it.

Harry stared at the portrait of the woman with green eyes for a few moments longer before patting Sirius' face gently. Sirius, who never slept soundly, popped open one eye to stare at Harry. Harry beamed at his Uncle and placed both his hands on Sirius' face to keep the man awake. Sirius tried to pull Harry into his chest to sleep but Harry strained against him.

"It's early Harry," Sirius whispered, eyes glancing to the clock, "Go back to sleep, I won't let the monsters get you. I promise."

"Who is she?"

"Who?" Sirius yawned, still half asleep.

"The woman in the picture, the one with my eyes." Harry felt Sirius' jaw harden against his fingers, "Is she my mum? Where is she?"

Sirius' grey eyes scanned Harry's face before he nodded slowly, deliberately keeping Harry locked tight in his arms. Sirius reached up a hand to brush back Harry's messy hair so he could stare into Harry's green eyes solemnly.

"Where is she?" Harry asked again, "Why hasn't she come to see me?"

The empty look in Sirius' eyes was paired perfectly with the uncertainty on his face, "Harry," he said, keeping his voice surprisingly level, "She can't come see you."

Harry wrinkled his little nose, "Why?"

Sirius leaned forward, eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Harry's before he whispered, "She's sick, Harry."

Harry thought about this for a second before saying, "Sick?"

Sirius pulled back to look Harry in his eyes again and Harry noticed Sirius' own eyes were shimmering grey, "She's very sick."

"When will she be better?"

"I don't know."

Harry allowed this to sink in, the knowledge that somewhere out there, he had a mother who was too sick to see him. Harry thought about the man in the pictures downstairs, the one kissing his mother and laughing. He was Harry's favorite person in all the photographs because he was _always_ laughing. Sometimes when Harry waved to the man in the photos, he would make a silly face.

"What about the man with the glasses?"

A sort of pain flashed across Uncle Sirius' face, almost like Harry had kicked him, "That's—that's your dad."

Harry was hopeful, "Is he helping mum get better?"

Sirius stared at Harry, quiet. In Sirius' grey eyes Harry noticed a flicker of sadness that always hung about the cottage. Sirius often tried to hide the fact that he was hurting but Harry had once heard Sirius crying to Uncle Remus in the kitchen when they thought Harry was still napping. Sirius was wearing his long black hair in a bun atop his head that seemed to shrug with the man as he lowered his head back onto the pillow. Harry curled his feet up between them, pressing his toes into Sirius' abdomen and pouting for an answer.

"Yes." Sirius said finally, weakly, pulling Harry close enough so that Harry couldn't see his face anymore, "Yes, he's with your mum."

Harry would learn much later that Sirius had lied to him.

Harry asked constantly for the next year and a half to be able to meet his parents. He placed letters in the mail addressed to 'Mum n' Dad' but one day Harry saw the stack of letters in a cupboard when he was looking for wafers. Sirius apologized when he found Harry on the kitchen floor crying, with letters strewn around him. Harry's awful handwriting stared back up at Sirius, who suddenly looked sick and had to have Remus stop and help Harry clean up the mess while he disappeared for hours.

"Remus?" Harry asked softly as Remus placed all Harry's letters in a shoebox.

"Yes, Harry?" Remus was always calmer that Sirius, less edgy when it came to Harry's parents.

"Why can't I see my mum or dad?" Harry whispered as he placed the shoebox top on the shoebox, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Remus was firm as he tucked Harry into a one-armed hug, "Never think that you did anything wrong Harry."

Harry stared up at his Uncle sadly, "Then why can't I meet them?"

Remus didn't answer, his lips were drawn in a thin line.

Harry wondered if he'd ever see them again.

Finally, a few weeks after Harry's seventh birthday, Sirius woke Harry up early. Remus made them breakfast and chastised Sirius when he poured some liquor into a flask as Harry ate his pancakes quietly. Sirius snapped at Uncle Remus before turning to Harry sitting at the table quietly. Sirius pulled Harry's breakfast away to get Harry's attention away from his pancakes. Harry chewed slowly, staring at his Uncle curiously.

"Harry," Sirius spoke slowly, "I need you to be extra good this morning and go upstairs with Remus after breakfast. He's going to get you into your best clothes."

"Me?" Remus arched a brow at Sirius.

"Please Remus, I'm hanging on a thread…" Sirius grumbled as Harry pushed out from the table, "Harry seeing Lily is one thing—but James?"

Remus grabbed Harry's hand and glared at Sirius as they passed, "We can't keep Harry from them forever."

"We'll start with Lily." Sirius said, as if the discussion were final, "But until I know James won't take one look at Harry and try to kill himself, Harry _cannot_ see James."

"Fine." Remus shouted down the stairs, "Only Lily for now."

Remus, Sirius, and Harry all got dressed in nice robes. Sirius and Remus held Harry's hand tightly as they floo'd to a white walled rehabilitation ward outside of London. Sirius and Remus both deposited their wands at the front door before they were escorted into the patient side of the ward. Harry held on tightly to Uncle Remus' hand, scared of the way people seemed to walk like ghosts through the halls.

"I Can't believe we're doing this." Sirius mumbled to Remus darkly.

"Nobody got through to them." Remus reminded Sirius as they stood outside a pair of double doors, "Maybe Harry can."

"Or maybe this is a waste of time." Sirius said bitterly.

"I know how hard this is for you," Remus argued with Sirius, holding Harry's hand tighter as they spotted a nurse coming their way through the windows, "But you miss them, I miss them, and Harry deserves the chance to know them—or whatever is left of them."

Sirius paled as they neared a door and he firmly shook his head, stepping away from Remus and Harry, looking sick, "I can't do it." he murmured thickly, "I can't— _please_ Remus—I can't look at her…"

Remus looked disappointed but stopped arguing when he saw Sirius' plaid face, "Go," Remus said softly.

Sirius looked truly sorry as he slipped back through the doors quickly, as if he'd seen something from his nightmares. Remus looked as upset as Sirius but he pulled Harry through a doorway into a sitting area filled with patients in different colored dresses. Harry spotted her almost instantly. She was even more beautiful in person ,with long red hair that was tangled in knots at the ends. Harry admired the sharp curve to her cheekbones and the thin pressed lips, stained red. She was tiny, so much so that it seemed if she sank any farther into her cushions she would disappear.

Her green eyes fell on Harry and Remus picked up the pace as the nurse led them over to where the woman sat.

"You have visitors Lily," the nurse said kindly to Lily.

Lily Potter barely even blinked. She was looking right at Harry but it was almost like she was looking right _through_ him. Harry remembered that Sirius always said she was sick and Harry now believed his Uncle had misdiagnosed her. She looked like a stone statue. Her skin was ghastly white and her knees were bony, peeking out from under her gown. She hardly moved, net even when Harry stood inches from her.

Remus nodded at Harry tentatively, "Hello Lily," Remus spoke to Lily like he spoke to Harry, slightly airy and slow, "This is Harry."

The woman stared at Harry, as if she couldn't find the words to greet him. Luckily for Lily, for every word she didn't have, Harry had ten words to say to her. He sat down on the chair next to his mother and began chattering away. Lily didn't move that first day, she just kept her eyes on Harry, flashes of recognition through her eyes appearing when certain words tumbled from Harry's mouth.

Remus brought Harry the next week too. This time, when Harry walked through the ward doors Lily perked up from her chair. She didn't smile and she still acted stony as Harry showed her his chocolate frog card collection but she seemed truly upset when Remus collected Harry to leave. She placed a frail hand on Harry's cheek when he stood up to go, her eyes following Harry out the door.

Harry saw his mum for months before he finally witnessed first hand what sickness she was ailing from. It happened only minutes after he'd settled in beside her by the fireplace. Remus was not too far off, watching carefully as he always did. Lily's nurse, an older woman with a kind smile, was also close by. Harry was making handmade Christmas cards with Lily. She was helping him glue glitter onto the card stock and for the first time in months she cracked her first smile.

"I always loved Christmas." her voice was as soft as falling snow and fit her stony personality.

"You spoke." Harry stopped his glue pack, eyes wide and smile wide.

Harry watched as Lily's face lit up and dimples appeared on her cheeks as she poured green glitter onto the glue Harry had spread on the paper.

"This is fun." her voice was musical to Harry's ears and Harry couldn't resist jumping up from his chair and throwing his arms around her.

"I love you, mum."

For a minute, Lily froze and Harry saw the nurse and Remus jump out of their seats. Then, slowly, Lilys hand pulled Harry in and they embraced. Harry saw Remus relax and the nurse looked as if Merlin himself had hugged Lily. Harry pulled back, ready to grin at his mum, when multiple things happened at once. The glue Harry had been using was on his fingers, making his hands sticky. Harry had his hands wrapped around Lily's neck and bits of her hair stuck tot he glue on his hands. As Harry leaned back, bringing his hands with him, Lily's hair was tugged.

She screamed in alarm, Harry fell off her lap, hit his head on the table, and hot red blood started pouring down his scalp from the impact. In seconds Remus had his arms around Harry and Lily was crying, holding her hair like a child might hold a safety blanket. The nurse placed a wand to Lily's forehead and Lily collapsed against her chair as Remus assessed Harry's skull with his own wand—closing up the wound carefully.

Harry was rigid in Remus' arms. Remus seemed worried, as Harry's gaze was affixed to his mother, motionless in the chair. Her red curls tumbled over her shoulders like waterfalls and her fingers were dropped by her side, instead of reaching for Harry like he'd hoped. Harry struggled to hold back his tears until they got back to the front steps of the cottage. Sirius, who had likely seen Harry's shirt covered in red stains coinciding with a fresh pout on Harry's face came stumbling out of the cottage.

"What happened?" Sirius demanded, pulling Harry into his own arms and assessing Harry's head.

Remus and Sirius communicated with just their eyes over Harry. Harry's lower lip was trembling as he remembered his mum, motionless in the chair after he'd scared her. He wished he could remember what he did, before she screamed. Had he hurt her? Harry ran off when Remus dropped him on the ground, his feet slamming into the wooden floors as she climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He could hear Sirius talking to Remus as he escaped.

"What happened?"

"Lily had an episode."

Harry felt like everything had come to a crashing halt. He had thought she was okay, that maybe she might come home with him for a bit after they made Christmas cards. He had wanted to show her the cat that lived on the roof, who sometimes ventured into Harry's room if the window was left open. He had wanted her to come home to take care of him and spend Christmas with him.

Instead, Harry had made his mother sicker, sick enough that she collapsed. He couldn't help the tears that started to flow and he stumbled int he hallway, dropping against the cold wall of the cottage right next to a broken old side table that no one used. Sirius and Remus came upstairs almost moments after Harry had ran. Sirius spotted Harry curled in a ball next to the table and he bounded forward, kneeling in front of Harry.

Harry felt Sirius' hand touch his shoulder but Harry didn't dare look up or he'd cry harder.

"Harry," Sirius prodded, "Harry talk to us."

Remus kneeled down too, "Harry please don't cry son, it's okay."

"No it's not." Harry wailed, lifting his head to show snot dripping from his nose as he sobbed, "I made mummy sicker! I hurt her!"

Sirius shook his head quickly and used a sleeve to start cleaning Harry's face, "Harry James Potter let's make one thing clear. You did not hurt your mum. You barely even touched her."

"You weren't there." Harry ripped away from Sirius' sleeve rubbing at his nose, "I hurt her!"

"Harry." Remus brushed Harry's fringe back pathetically, "You didn't hurt Lily!"

"When why— _why_ was she not moving when we left?" Harry sobbed, "Why did she scream?"

Remus and Sirius looked at each other. Sirius arched a brow at Remus and Remus nodded, as if to agree with whatever Sirius was thinking. Harry used his hand to wipe as his nose but it did no good. Sirius sat down in front of Harry and crossed his legs before pulling Harry up and onto his lap. Remus sat down too, placing on arm around Sirius' shoulders and another hand on the ground to steady himself. Harry rubbed as his eyes, the saltwater tears stinging them.

"You're almost—you're going to be older soon." Sirius whispered to Harry, placing his chin on Harry's head, "You're growing up so fast and Uncle Remus and I wish nothing more than for you to spend the rest of your days with your parents in this cottage, but telling you that will happen would be a lie, Harry."

"I don't understand." Harry whined, falling aback against Sirius' bony chest.

"Harry your mother and father love you so much," Remus elated forward to place his spare hand on Harry's cheek, "They used to live here, with you, but you were so young you don't remember."

"Did they get sick when I was a baby?"

"They aren't sick Harry." Sirius said coldly, "We want you to understand, your Mum and Dad loved you so much they were willing to do anything to give you the best life." Harry sniffed and Sirius continued, "They fought against a very dark wizards, both of them were heroes and brought down some of the most evil of wizards."

Harry imagined the women with red hair, standing tall and proud, her wand aloft. He liked to think she wore long flowy black robes and he imagined her with her rare smile. The woman in his imaginations was so beautiful and courageous. Harry almost believed she was the most powerful witch in the whole universe…but the most powerful witch in the universe wouldn't sit fading away in a hospital.

They made a few enemies." Sirius' voice was catching as he went deeper and deeper into the darkness he let haunt him, "When the darkest of their enemies fell, his followers swarmed, trying to get any information they could. A witch named Bellatrix and a wizard named Barty Crouch Jr. heard their master had died and so they went looking for answers."

Sirius' voice trailed off and Harry felt a hot, fat tear fall on his leg from above.

Remus finished the story when Sirius could not, "Your parents were hit by a lot of dangerous spells Harry."

"Like a stunning curse?" Harry whispered, remembering the one curse he'd seen used.

"Worse." Remus' eyes had shadows under them, "Harry, they barely survived. If Sirius and I hadn't stopped by to check on them after we heard the news about the other dark wizards falling—all three of you might be dead."

Harry swallowed, he was past crying, he was too scared.

"Will they come back?" Harry asked, "The bad wizards?"

"No," Remus said, "No they can't come back."

"Can we go back and see my mum?" Harry questioned, hope fluttering in hi stomach.

"Yes," Remus promised, "Once the Healers give permission."

"And my dad?"

Both Sirius and Remus flinched. Harry looked back and forth between his Uncles to see they both looked uncomfortable at the mention of his father. Sirius' ears were flushed red and Remus looked as if Harry had broken his favorite broomstick. Harry crewed on hip lip, impatient for an answer. Finally, Sirius spoke up, his voice cracking.

"Maybe."

" _Soon_?"

Remus and Sirius shared another dark look and Harry knew then that they were keeping something from Harry. There was something about Harry's father that made both of them freeze up and seem even more sad than they were about Lily Potter. Harry tugged insistently on Sirius' shirt.

" _Soon_ , Sirius?"

"We'll see."

Harry wouldn't meet his father until he was eleven years old.

* * *

 **This story isn't finished yet don't worry because what started as a one shot turned into a full fledged story of bringing Lily and James back to themselves (maybe lmao) by the end of this.**

 **Next time:**

"I didn't understand it either at first but the Healers explained that James is channeling his trauma through the ink. He wakes up from nightmares and just starts drawing and Remus, his entire _room_ is covered in more like these. Hundreds of moments, hundreds of buried memories that he doesn't realize aren't dreams."


End file.
